


Countdown

by strawberryfinn



Category: One Direction (Band), X Factor RPF
Genre: Accidents, Angst, Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryfinn/pseuds/strawberryfinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As ridiculous as it sounds, it starts with the gelato. Harry’s life is ruined and it’s all the gelato’s fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

**1.**  
 _Gelato._

 

As ridiculous as it sounds, it starts with the Italian gelato. The fucking gelato. It can’t be ice cream or frozen yogurt. It has to be the gelato.

 

“I want gelato.”

 

Those are the words. Simple and straight.

 

“Harry, we don’t have time right now. We have to practice-” comes the protest of Zayn. Zayn glances at him and scratches his skin where he’s recently gotten another tattoo. His forehead creases in concern and his expressive eyebrows curve up. Next to him, Niall nods in agreement. 

 

Harry rolls his eyes in response.

 

“I want gelato. Come on, it sounds good.”

 

“It does. Mango—that’s what I want,” admits Louis, tilting his head. His styled brown hair falls in waves. “I guess I can take you. After we practice.”

 

“I want it now.”

 

“When did you become such a PMSing little bitch?” Louis jokes with a smile. He ruffles Harry’s brown hair, his ocean blue eyes shining.

 

“Ever since gelato entered my mind,” Harry states smoothly back. “Come on Louis. Mate, I’ll pay.”

 

“Why can’t you just wait, Harry?” Liam asks, cocking his head.

 

“My blood sugar’s low,” Harry answers. “I need gelato.”

 

“Eat an apple,” Niall drops to the side of the room and rummages through a paper bag, looking for something that might help Harry stop whining.

 

“I don’t want an apple,” Harry says tensely. “Please Louis, I want gelato.”

 

Louis smirks at the rest of the bewildered members. “If we don’t get him his Italian ice we’re going to have to go through this all night. I’ll just take him. And it’s his birthday for God’s sakes. He’s only difficult when he knows we’ll give him what we want.”

 

Zayn’s forehead creases even more if that’s possible. “But we have a show-“

 

“In like two hours,” Louis counters, running his hand through his wavy hair. “It won’t be long—it will take like what, half an hour?”

 

Niall glances at Zayn and Liam, raising his hands in defeat. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Make sure to bring me some!”

 

“Thanks guys,” Harry smirks. He won. He finds Louis’s car keys and tosses them to Louis. “Drive.”

 

Zayn stares at Harry walking out the door.

 

“When did…when-“

 

Louis stares at Zayn’s flabbergasted face.

 

“Puberty hit,” he said simply.

 

There’s a terse order outside.

 

” _Louis._ Gelato.”

 

“Okay, Prima Donna. Anything you want, princess.”

 

**2.**  
 _Cranberries._

 

Next, it’s the screeching tires.

 

There’s a scream and the sickening crunch of metal as the cars collide. Their car skids out of control and slams into the side of the freeway. The spinning car comes to a halt.

 

He’s jerked forward in his seat-his seatbelt preventing him from flying out the window.

 

God, there’s actually a reason for these straps.

 

The airbag next to him blows up.

 

He tastes blood in his mouth. Forget the lemon gelato stuffed up his nose.

 

His heart races and he breathes hard, trying to control his shaking body. He thinks his arm is broken because he’s in more pain than he can ever remember.

 

“Louis?”

 

It hurts to turn his head but he does. A body is slumped in the airbag; his best friend is motionless.

 

“Louis.”

 

It’s not a question this time. He just needs a response.

 

Louis doesn’t move.

 

Harry’s heart races. Louis’s just unconscious. He’ll be alright.

 

But the red that drips down Louis’s face isn’t reassuring at all.

 

He closes his eyes and tries to convince himself it’s cranberry sauce.

 

**3.**  
 _White._

 

It’s just white. He doesn’t know why.

 

And shit, he’s scared.

 

There’s white. Everywhere.

 

Maybe he’s dying.

 

At least then he won’t be crazy.

 

Someone’s calling his name.

 

“Harry?”

 

He tries to move his head.

 

It won’t move.

 

Fuck.

 

He tries to open his eyes.

 

They won’t open.

 

Fuck.

 

He feels a touch on his hand.

 

He tries to move his hand.

 

This pattern is getting obnoxious.

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 

What’s going on?

 

White. White. White.

 

He hopes this isn’t the way he’s going to think from now on.

 

“Harry, please wake up.” There’s sobbing.

 

He doesn’t like the sound.

 

Well he would wake up but he can’t control his body…what the hell is going on?

 

Where’s Zayn? Where’s Liam? Where’s Niall?

 

Where’s his mum? He really wants his mum.

 

But mainly,

 

_Where’s Louis?_

 

His eyes stay closed and he starts dreaming of candycane trees and cotton candy clouds. Gumdrop mountains too.

 

Except he can’t eat any of it because he’s stuck in his mind and he can’t get out.

 

He thinks he’s in the hospital.

 

And he thinks the doctor decided to give him a sex change operation.

 

Because he’s dreaming like a candyass.

 

**4.**  
 _Air._

 

When he opens his eyes he thinks he’s dead.

 

A rush of air pulls through his lungs and GODDAMMIT it hurts.

 

A lot.

 

He almost screams.

 

But it would hurt more to scream.

 

His mum’s eyes are above his face; the worry that creases her forehead rips at his heart.

 

“Hey,” he mutters weakly.

 

She looks at him and bursts into tears.

 

He turns his head to the left and sees the rest of the boys.

 

Liam looks at him, his eyes hollow. Zayn’s gripping his fingers against his palms so hard they might bleed. Niall takes one glance at Harry and bursts into tears.

 

“Where’s Louis?” Harry manages to gasp.

 

Liam looks at the floor and Niall steps up to leave the room.

 

Hell no.

 

It’s not that.

 

It’s not that.

 

Louis can’t be…dead?

 

Zayn shuffles his foot.

 

“Louis’s dead,” is the reply. His words are stilted and unforgiving.

 

Harry closes his eyes and focuses on breathing so he can’t think about anything else.

 

**5.**  
 _Never._

 

He can’t believe he missed the funeral. He missed the fucking funeral because he was trying to breathe on his deathbed.

 

And honestly he wishes that he’d have died instead of Louis.

 

It was all his fault.

 

That and the gelato’s.

 

He’s never going to eat gelato again.

 

Fuck how good it tastes.

 

**6.**  
 _Going On_

 

“Please Harry, we have to do this.”

 

“I don’t have to do anything.”

 

“He’d have wanted you to.”

 

“Louis would have wanted to  _live._ ” 

 

“Don’t you  _dare_  tell me what Louis would have wanted.”

 

“You can’t blame this on yourself.”

 

“Who else is there to blame? I didn’t see  _you_ or  _you_  or  _you_  whining for gelato?”

 

“Please Harry. This is for Louis.”

 

“Louis is _dead_!”

 

“Don’t you owe him this?”

 

“Liam, I just owe him his _life_ back!”

 

“Harry this isn’t-“

 

“If you say it’s not my fault one more time I am going to _kill_ you!”

 

“Harry, come on-“

 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP NIALL! You weren’t there when the blood was pouring off his head. You weren’t there and you didn’t hear the screech… _you didn’t hear_ …”

 

“FUCKING UP YOUR LIFE ISN’T GOING TO HELP!”

 

“But it helps me feel better.”

 

“Louis wouldn’t want you to stop. He would have wanted us to go on.”

 

“Don’t talk about going on to me Zayn. He’s dead and there’s no going on from there.”

 

**7.**  
 _Converse._

 

He spends a lot of time in Louis’s room.

 

He misses Louis. A lot.

 

He misses the way Louis scuffled around the room, the way he could hear Louis pour his cereal in the morning, even the way Louis hogged the bathroom and spent obscene amounts of time on his hair.

 

He spends an unealthy amount of time in Louis’s bedroom because he doesn’t know what else to do. Louis’s parents haven’t cleared out his stuff because it hurts to damn much and Harry suspects it’s just because they don’t want to see the boy who killed their beloved son.

 

Harry stares at his scuffed Converse and in frustration takes one off and throws it across the room. It hits his wall and his face crumples as he buries his face in the blankets.

 

Damn.

 

He likes the way the sheets smell-there’s still that faint scent of Louis. He sobs and tries to brace his shaking shoulders.

 

He doesn’t want to cry but he can’t help it.

 

He fumbles around Louis’s room and punches his hand into the wall so hard it bleeds. As he slams a drawer in Louis’s desk pops open.

 

Maybe it’s a sign from God is his sarcastic thought.

 

His eyes widen as he walks over to the desk. He takes up the crumpled piece of notebook paper and realizes what he has to do.

 

Stuffing his feet into his shoes, he starts off.

 

There’s going to be a hell of a resurrection tonight.

 

**8.**  
 _Voice._

 

When he gets onto the stage, the lights are bright and the screams are loud.

 

He blindly hears Liam make a speech next to him but all he can focus on is that one crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Zayn and Niall have got a hand on each of his shoulders, offering him support.

 

He hears Liam’s muffled words—“This is a song that Louis wrote, and in honor of his memory, Harry is performing it tonight.”

 

When he starts to sing, his voice is raw and unrefined. It rips out of his throat with an unrestrained power that he didn’t know he had in him.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until wetness spots his fingers and his vision blurs in front of him.

 

The crowd grows quiet, but that might just be him. That might just be his voice alone; he might just be a million miles away from it all by himself.

 

And as his voice spirals out with a fervor he has never possessed, he feels like he belongs.

 

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> meh. sorry I killed Lou :(


End file.
